One Good Friend
by AthenaIceGoddess
Summary: Woody gets out of the hospital after getting shot and goes into a dangerous downspiral. Instead of turning to his friends, he turns to the bottle. Will he get help before it's too late? WJ, of course. TRY This story! Please
1. Nothin to Lose

Title:One Good Friend

Author: AthenaIceGoddess

Spoilers: not very many big ones, just a few from this season, a few from seasons past barely mentioned

Angst/Romance/Drama

Summary: Woody gets out of the hospital after being shot, and he goes into a dangerous downspiral. Can he get help before it's too late? WJ of course.

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own 'em. I just like to play with them every once in a while. I also don't own the title of the fic or the chapters. They're all from songs.

Chapter 1

Nothin' to lose

Woody Hoyt was an alcoholic. After getting out of the hospital, booze seemed to be the only way to get rid of the pain. He remembered the exact day, the exact _hour_, when the line between drinking socially and drinking to lose himself began to blur.

He was sitting at the bar in a place he would always think of as the Pogue, nursing his fourth shot of whiskey. The ghosts of his past danced all around him, all of his mistakes and good times he would never have again there to slap him ni the face.

The time Cal almost got Jordan killed, saying he was all Woody had, Jordan telling him he had her, thinking that they might have a chance. Kissing Jordan in the desert, her kissing him in the car before they left.

Returning to the present, Woody tossed back the rest of his drink and threw enough money to cover his tab at the bartender.

The detective staggered to the door, stopping to look back for a second.

In his mind's eye, a grinning Woody spun a laughing, radiant looking Jordan into his arms, and smiling down at her like she was the only woman in the universe. To him, at that moment, she had been.

Shaking his head to dispel the unwelcome memory, Woody walked out of the bar.

He'd thought Jordan was the only woman for him, and he had been willing to wait as long as it took to make her his. For a while, he'd even foolishly believed that she loved him back, until he got shot, that is.

That's when he realized he was alone in the world. The whispered confession of love from Jordan was nothing more than pity, so he threw her out of his hospital room. After that, all the friends he thought he had at the morgue stopped visiting him.

He realized that they had never really liked him, they just put up with him while Jordan strung him along. They probably laughed at him behind his back, the lovestruck farmboy from Wisconsin chaing the smart, pretty ME. Like he ever really had a chance.

Woody fumbled with his apartment keys, drunken fingers feeling like lead as he dropped them in the gutter.

Cursing bitterly, the detective splashed around, trying to find them. Finally he found them, and stood up.

"Sir, do you need any help?" A concerned sounding female voice asked, tapping him on the shoulder tentatively.

"Do I look like I need your help? Get out of here." He snarled at the woman, who scurried away muttering 'miserable drunk!'.

Laughing, Woody realized it was true. Woodrow Hoyt, a detective with the Boston PD, public defender, was a drunk. And he didn't care.

**A/N: SO, what do you think? Worth continuing? I'll only know if you press that pretty little purple button with your clicker and tell me! Things will pick up in chapter two, with Woody drunk on the job.**


	2. She ain't worth missing

Title:One Good Friend

Author: AthenaIceGoddess

Spoilers: not very many big ones, just a few from this season, a few from seasons past barely mentioned

Angst/Romance/Drama

Summary: Woody gets out of the hospital after being shot, and he goes into a dangerous downspiral. Can he get help before it's too late? WJ of course.

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own 'em. I just like to play with them every once in a while. I also don't own the title of the fic or the chapters. They're all from songs

Chapter 2

She ain't worth missing

Just one drink. Just to take the edge off the pain and anger Woody felt as often as he breathed. Anger at the punk that shot him, anger at Jordan, emotional pain, physical pain... Woody wasn't sure where one feeling ended and another began.

Woody pulled up to the curb at the same bar he frequented, walking straight up to the door and entering like he belonged with the other sorry drunks there. He walked straight up to the bar, ordering his usual whiskey.

"We're seeing more and more of you every day." The middle-aged bartender said with a smile, whiping down the already immaculate bar top with a cloth that had once been white, but was now a uniform grey.

"Yeah." Woody grunted back, downing the whiskey in one gulp and signaling for another.

"So, where do you work? You don't look like the typical coporate asshole that stalks in here to drown their troubles in a glass."

"Somewhere I should be getting back to before I'm missed." Woody muttered, finishing off his second drink and getting up. "Thanks for the drinks." He threw some money at the bartender and went back out to his car.

When he got out there, there was a report of a homicide coming over his police radio, and he was in the area. He headed over to the scene of the crime, and parked his car behind the ME's van.

He got out of the car, hoping and praying that the answering ME wasnt... Jordan. No such luck. At the sight of the slender brunette bent over a sprawled female body, Woody's traitorious heart clenched. He'd worked with her a few times since he got back on the job, but the awkwardness was always there.

"Michelle Santos, female latino, aproximately 5'5, 125, cause of death- blunt force trauma to the back of the head. TOD approximately-" She stopped to look at her watch, jumping a little when she noticed Woody standing behind her.

"Jeez Woods, you scared me." She stared at him for a second, taking in his rumpled trench coat and his bloodshot eyes. Those piercing brown eyes didn't miss a beat.

"How you doing with everything?" She asked, friendly concern coloring her voice. Irritation surged through Woody at her concern. Who was she to be concerned about him?

"I'm fine. Great, actually. Got a hot date tonight." Ignoring the hurt look that flashed across her face before the professional mask was plastered back on, he stepped up to the body.

"What do we have?" Woody asked. "One female, cause of death is blunt force trauma to the head, time of death is approximately a half hour ago. She was thrown out that window. CSU is sweeping the room up there right now."

"So someone cracked her over the head and then chucked her out a window? Seems like a whole lot of trouble to go to. Why not just kill her and leave her up there?" Woody mused, looking up.

"That's your job, not mine." Jordan quipped, stepping closer to Woody to get a better look at the busted out window.

Wrinkling her nose, Jordan looked around, sniffing unobtrousively. "What's that smell? It smells like Jack Daniels." She looked at Woody suspiciously. "You haven't been-?"

Stepping away, Woody rolled his eyes. "No, I haven't. Get that report to me as soon as possible, I have five open homicides on my desk, and I'd like to get a few of them shut." Turning to go back to his car, he opened the door.

"I should have the report done by four thrity, so if you stopped by then, you can get it." Jodan told him, hurt from his curt behavior in her eyes.

Her chestnut curls blew in her face as she watched the man she used to- hell, still did- love get in his car and drive away without so much as a smile thrown in her direction. And now Jordan wondered what was going on with him that he smelled like whiskey.

Woody had never been a heavy drinker. Even when they went to the Pogue, he'd only had a few beers. She hoped he was alright.

"Are you ready to go, love?" Nigel asked, sticking his head out of the front window of the morgue van.

"You in a hurry, Nige?" Jordan called back, going over to the other side and jumping in after the body of Michelle Santos was loaded into the back.

"What's up with you and Woodrow?" Nige asked, putting the car into drive and heading to the morgue.

"I don't know."Jordan replied, watching traffic with her brow furrowed in worry. "I'm worried about him though." She didn't want to tell Nigel about the alcohol she smelled on the detective, she'd investigate that herself later.

"But Woody's a big boy, he can take care of himself. We've got a job to do." Jordan muttered, staring out the window. She'd pay him a visit later on. Whether he wanted her to or not.


	3. Intervention

Title:One Good Friend

Author: AthenaIceGoddess

Spoilers: not very many big ones, just a few from this season, a few from seasons past barely mentioned

Angst/Romance/Drama

Summary: Woody gets out of the hospital after being shot, and he goes into a dangerous downspiral. Can he get help before it's too late? WJ of course. With a quick appearance from JD.

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own 'em. I just like to play with them every once in a while. I also don't own the title of the fic or the chapters. They're all from songs

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews- sorry for making you cry!**

Chapter 3

Jordan sat in her car outside Woody's apartment, and took a deep breath. She didn't know what Woody would think about her showing up at his place at eight o'clock on a wednesday night, and really didn't know what he would do now that it appeared that he was drinking.

"Come on, Cavanaugh. This is Woody we're talking about, Farmboy, not some hard ass drunk." She hoped. Woody had been different since the shooting, a changed man. Jordan just hoped there was enough of her Woody left in there to listen to reason.

She got out of the car and took the elevator up to Woody's floor, the fifth one. She knocked on the door and got no response. She raised her fist to knock again, but the door swung open, a bleary eyed detective on the other end.

"Hey, Woods. Got a minute?" He just stared at her. Ok, time for plan B. if he wasn;t going to let her in out of friendship...

"Uh, you forgot to stop by the morgue this afternoon to pick up the report on Michelle Santos, so I brought it to you." She stopped, uncertain, as he just continued to stare. God, he reeked of alcohol! Jordan wondered if he even recognized her.

"You said you wanted to get the case closed as soon as possible... Can I come in for a sec? It's chilly out here and my coat sucks." That was a blatent lie, it was actually quite toasty in the hallway, but Jordan knew she needed to get in the apartment to talk to him.

"Yeah." he said, opening the door for her and closing it once she got in and padlocking it behind her. There went any chance of a quick escape.

She dumped the file on his coffee table, narrowly missing a box of pizza that was about a week old and an empty beer bottle. Jordan wrinkled her nose at the smell wafting out of the open pizza box.

"Jeez, Woody, you aren't still eating that, are you? I think it's sticking to the box. You got anything to drink?"

"Beer and water. Look in the fridge." Woody turned his bloodshot eyes on her and crossed his arms across his toned, bare chest. "What are you really doing here, Cavanaugh? Come to drop off the file and bitch about my living conditions?"

He was definately drunk. Time for a confrontation. "No, Woody, I'm here because I'm worried about you. What's wrong with you, drinking on the job? You know that that's a quick way to get kicked off the force."

"Oh, like you really care! Why don't you just ran back to Pollack, reporter extrordinaire?"

Jordan walked over to Woody and stuck a finger in his face. "Yeah, that's it, bring Pollack into it just to take the heat off of you. And I noticed you didn't deny being drunk earlier today! Woody, what's going on? You barely ever drink."

Woody slapped her hand away. "That's none of your business. My _life_ is none of your business, so just stay out of it!"

"It's my business if you get behind the wheel and go out and kill someone!" Jordan yelled back, fighting back tears. His life had been her business since he walked into hers, and her heart.

"Get out!" He yelled, anger flashing in his blue eyes. Jordan shrank back unconsciously. "You need help, Woody. And since you don't seem to hurried about getting it, I'll get it for you. I'll see you later." She turned andwalked out of the apartment, a plan already forming in her mind.

Everyone on the force, including the Chief, knew she and Woody were close. Everyone had to have noticed the change in Woody's behavior, so if Jordan maybe called the chief and told him that Woody needed some time off for personal reasons, maybe the chief would listen to her. Hell, the guy owed her big time for all the murder cases she'd helped close over the past five years.

It was just where she would take him that was the problem. Not her apartment, and certainly not his. Garrett owed her vacation time that she wouldn't take otherwise, so maybe getting Woody out of Boston was the best thing. Maybe bring him back to Kewanee, because Woody sure wouldn't go into AA meetings. Maybe the combination of his childhood home and Jordan's influence would help him get over this thing.

She had a few phone calls to make.

**A/N: Sorry about the wait between chapters! Things have been crazy with exams and such. next chapter should be moer interesting, with Jordan bringing Woody back to Kewannee.**


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